by Rachel Renee
“Have you been to Italy recently?”
“Not since my very first mission. That’s what’s so confusing. If it was someone from back then, why now?”
“Anything left unsolved? Any enemies left unchecked?”
I close my eyes, thinking back to Italy. Back to the people I had worked alongside. I was there for a little over two years. You really can get to know people during that time, build relationships. It was hard to leave and even harder now to think back to them.
I feel Eliza settle into my side once more. She hasn’t given up on my answer. She knows I’ll tell her when I have the words to speak. It wasn’t that long ago when Eliza and I were keeping secrets from each other. Not anymore. I almost lost her and after that, I refuse to keep her in the dark. She has her cases and I have mine, but we’ve been trying to help each other out. Recently, we figured out that we work better as a team than solo, instead of trying to accomplish things on our own, how we’d been used to working.
“When I left Italy, I left behind some amazing agents. I thought we’d keep in contact, but that was a rookie mistake. I never heard from any of them after.”
“Maybe one of them just recently came across something you left behind. Or maybe it has nothing to do with any of them at all?”
“Either is a possibility. Although, I don’t know who stayed behind. If any of them. There was only one agent who was actually from Italy, Rome, where I was stationed, but there is no telling if she would still be there now. You know how often we are forced to move.”
“She?” Out of all of that, the one word Eliza gets stuck on is she. I laugh. Eliza isn’t normally the jealous type. In fact, I have never seen her act jealous the entire time we’ve been together.
“She, yes. Are you actually jealous?”
She laughs now, and I feel the vibration from her movement against my ribcage. “Not jealous, just curious. We’ve never talked about that first mission, the one that took you away from Savannah.”
“It was purely an act. I mean, most of it, anyway. There were real feelings involved by the end. You know me well enough to know that when I do something, I put my whole heart into it.”
I feel her mouth stretch before I see the twinkle in her eyes. “You and your big heart,” she mumbles.
I inhale the scent of honeysuckle, Eliza’s new shampoo, and can’t help the smile that spreads across my lips as well. Maybe there is a little jealousy tucked away in that stubborn heart of hers. “I better get up and make myself presentable.”
“I’m going back to sleep until the alarm goes off.” She yawns.
“You do that.” I push myself up, gently adjusting Eliza so that she is now lying on my pillow and not on my chest. Draco, her little black kitty stirs from the bottom of the bed, making his way up to snuggle in with Eliza now that I’m moving from my spot. Orion, my pillow companion, yawns, but tucks himself back into a ball, right above where my head had just been.
Once I’m out of bed, I correct the comforter so that Eliza is tucked in tight, before reaching over and placing a gentle kiss upon her temple. “I love you,” I whisper, although I know she has already drifted off to sleep.
I spend a minute staring at her dark curly hair splayed all over my pillow. I don’t want it to, but my mind drifts to Italy. To someone I once knew with blonde hair, who I saw lying in this exact same position the day I left over ten years ago. “Sophia. Is it you who’s sent me something?”
10
2007
“Tell me about home? Did you have many girlfriends?” Sophia and I are enjoying a rare breakfast alone out on the rooftop terrace. Santi is out of town with his father so there has been no need to go to the caffé every morning. Soon it will be off to Florence, and my job as a professor. Right now, I’m having breakfast with this kind soul who is sitting across from me, and I need to focus.
“As soon as I turned eighteen I left for the army. My parents had been fighting constantly and I knew that it was only a matter of time before they were going to split.” Sophia’s nose scrunches up as I talk about my parents. “I think they were trying to stick it out until I left.”
“Did they always fight?”
“Just the last couple of years of marriage. They thought they were hiding it from me, but I heard them through the thin walls. When we were all together, they played the perfect couple. My father doted on my mother, she would smile, they would laugh, but their eyes never lingered. Their hands never touched. They were both unhappy, and once they finally told me that they were getting divorced, I wasn’t shocked, and actually relieved for them. I’d only wished they hadn’t waited so long.”
“It’s so sad when couples do that.”
“Tell me about it. It happened when the time was right, though. They went their separate ways without having to worry about a child at home that needed to be adjusted into this new life, new routine. They did it for me and I’m grateful for that. It also freed them up to start new lives and they both did immediately.”
“Really?”
“Oh yeah. Mom remarried within the year and Dad within the first year and a half. I have a little brother from dad’s marriage. Greyson, he’s three.”
“Oh wow, do you see him often?”
“Twice. I’ve seen him twice. I flew out when he was born and Dad and Julia brought him to Savannah on his third birthday. I fear we will never have a close relationship. I mean, how can we? They live in Colorado and I live…well…”
“I know, Niccolo.” Sophia’s small hand reaches across the table and rests atop my own. “The price we pay for the job we do. I only hope that one day it feels worth it to you.”
“Does it to you? Tell me about your family?”
She smiles sheepishly, a slight pink to her cheeks. “Maybe some other time,” she purrs. “Right now, I’m learning about you. What about girlfriends? You have not answered that question.”
I haven’t answered yet, staring into the eyes of the beautiful woman. “Why do you make that sound with your throat? What’s so funny?”
“I didn’t date much. I had a girlfriend before I left. We weren’t really official, but we did all the things couples do. Go on dates, talk on the phone at all hours of the night.” I stop, not wanting to embarrass myself by talking about the more intimate stuff.
“Do you love her?”
I shrug. How do I feel about Eliza? “I care about her.” I feel myself pause once more. “Love is a strong word. I think I do.” I think really hard about that. I left without a word. It’s possible it will be years before I see her again, if ever.
“Sometimes it’s easier to pretend we do not love. It’s easier to break away if we ignore those feelings. What did she say when you told her you were leaving?”
“Nothing. I didn’t say. She has no idea.”
“Niccolo.” The hand atop mine squeezes me tight.
“What was I supposed to tell her? She didn’t even know I worked for the CIA. Seemed like it would be much easier on both of us if I just disappeared.”
“Maybe so. Promise me you’ll at least leave a note, next time. We women do not like to worry.”
“I doubt she will worry. She’s trying to get into the police academy. She has a life of her own and will move on quickly.”
“Somehow I doubt that.” Sophia winks as she pulls her hand away and sits back in her chair.
I pull my coffee cup to my mouth and drink the last of the liquid before refilling and falling back in my own chair. “It is still surreal to be sitting here, in Italy, staring out at the Colosseum every morning.”
“Not much longer for you. Are you ready to become a professor?”
I laugh again. “As I’ll ever be, I guess. Thankfully, I have all of the coursework complete for the entire year, should I need it.”
“That is good. You work hard. Santi and you have a good rapport. Hopefully, you will not need all of it.”
“I’d rather be over-prepared than have to fight my way through later when I haven
’t prepared enough.”
“What will you teach?”
I shake my head. “English.”
Sophia and I both chuckle, hers so elegant that it makes me laugh a bit harder. How does someone laugh elegantly? Before Sophia, I would never have used elegant and laughter in the same sentence.
The two of us settle into the silence easily, both of us enjoying our coffee and staring out over the city below. It’s nice to spend mornings here at the apartment. I’m really going to miss my time in Rome when I travel to Florence next month. I’m hopeful I can get into the same kind of rhythm there as I have here.
“Well, Niccolo, I must get to work. What will you do today?”
I have an entirely free day, the first since I’ve been here. “Wander,” I answer.
“Good plan,” I hear, right before the chair across from me scratches its way back under the table top.
Sophia begins to grab up her dishes and place them on the tray we brought breakfast up on. “Leave it, please. I will take care of it when I go down.”
“Grazie, Niccolo. Ciao.”
“Ciao, bella.” I answer, not looking away from the brilliant sunshine cascading overtop the Colosseum.
I will never tire of this view and will miss it when I’m gone. Who knows if I will be back again next summer, so I’ll take it while I can get it. Silently, I watch as the city completely awakens. The car horns beeping, the scooters starting up, the people, always the people, talking loudly as they stroll through the streets beginning yet another day.
I’ve walked these streets so many times over the past two months, but never once alone like this. There has always been a mission, something I was doing, or someone I was with that kept me from truly enjoying the sites around Rome. Today is going to be different. Today, I’m left to my own devices.
My first stop is a little caffé that I notice on my walk. It is tucked into the buildings, smooshed between two other shops, just as my usual morning haunt is. As I approach the counter, the young woman behind it peers up at me, blue eyes glittering in the bright light of the store.
“Ciao.” She blushes. “Cosa posso fare per te?”
“Per cosa sei conosciuto?” I smile back at her as I wait for her to tell me what this caffé is known for as I have never ventured inside.
“Caffe latte,” she answers, never looking away from me.
“Lo prendero,” I answer her. You ask an Italian for a recommendation, you should take it. Sophia told me this after our first restaurant adventure when I asked our waiter what their specialty was and then snubbed my nose at his suggestion. Sophia says to not ask if you aren’t willing to try what they recommend.
The beautiful woman behind the counter blushes once more before she turns away and begins preparing my latte. I’m thankful that she places the beverage in a to-go cup as I had planned to continue my tour but hadn’t thought to tell her that before she started my coffee.
“Grazie,” I tell her once she hands me the drink and I have paid.
Her smile is still wide and her cheeks still pink as she answers, “Prego.”
Taking a sip of the lightly sweetened, tan colored liquid in the cup I just acquired, I amble back out into the warm, late morning hustle of the city. It still amazes me the number of tourists who visit Rome this time of the year. Families, whose children are out of school for the summer, couples just starting out their lives together and some who are on the last legs of theirs. I smile warmly as I pass by them, looking past to see the wonders of ancient civilization all around me.
After some time, I find myself at the Colosseum. I’ve seen the inside more than once and the rest can be seen from the comfort of the apartment, so today I make plans to take the long walk around the building and explore whatever I can find on the other side. About ten minutes later, I find myself amongst the ruins of the Roman Forum. People are sitting amongst the rubble, enjoying lunch or at a nearby concession table having a glass of vino. As much as I want to linger, I also want to see more on my day off and so I continue.
The streets are filled with people like myself, exploring, drifting aimlessly but if not to gaze upon the stunning construction of almost every building in the area. Some of the streets are cobblestoned and remind me of back home on River Street. I pause for just a moment along one, to watch a young couple. They are blowing bubbles into the air as their two children, a boy and girl, chase after the clear circles floating all around them, popping and giggling at any one that they can capture. I don’t even know these people but their love of each other and for life itself magnifies throughout everyone who has stopped to take a moment just to watch them.
I feel my mouth turn upward, truly happy for an instant as I continue on my journey. After turning the corner, directly past the family, a place from the history books stands large, right in front of my eyes. The Pantheon’s massive columns are surrounded by gaggles of people, chattering, taking pictures, ogling the splendor. I grin as I sneak past the hoards, ignoring the stench of those not bathed in days, and make my way through the crowds, interested in going inside and seeing with my own eyes what I’ve only seen in pictures.
After buying my ticket and handing it to the man collecting them at the entrance, I walk inside, my feet moving just as quickly as my eyes, going back and forth trying to see everything at once. There aren’t many words to describe how enormous the rounded building feels compared to even someone of my height. The intricacy that had to have gone into putting this piece of work together. The feat it must have been to place the dome on the top.
The natural light coming from the hole directly in the center of the dome is almost blinding as I peer up into the oculus. I don’t know how many people bump into me as I stare up into the void, until a pain shoots through my neck, alerting me that I need to change position. I stand and stare for who knows how long.
Just a few months ago, I was standing in the middle of Savannah, Georgia, staring up at the golden dome of our city hall, wondering where I was going with my life. I had no idea at that moment that I would be standing under this glorious dome, thousands of miles away, thinking about Savannah and the journey I’ve since started.
11
After hours of touring the city center, I make my way back to the apartment, feeling refreshed and with a new sense of urgency to get this case going. My relationship with Santi is growing and I feel like he’s starting to trust me and really enjoy my company. Honestly, he’s not that bad of a kid, now that I’ve gotten to know him better. Sure, he’s a little full of himself, but most eighteen-year-olds think they have the world in their hands. I know I did, but I’m hopeful I did a little better at keeping that thought to myself.
As I open the door to the apartment, I hear a whispered conversation coming from the kitchen area. I pause, eager to hear who Charlie is talking to and possibly what they are talking about. It must be something unknown to me as I don’t understand why Charlie would be whispering in our home. As quietly as possible, I shut the door back and stand, waiting.
The conversation has quieted completely, probably when I opened the door. Do they know I’m here?
“What are you doing, Nic?” Charlie rounds the corner, his voice startling me.
Thinking quickly, I drop to the floor and start pretending to tie my shoe. “Tying my shoe.” I peer up at him through my lashes and see his face scrunch up.
“Where have you been?”
“Out.”
“Where? With Sophia?” He smirks.
“No, not with Sophia. She said she was working today.”
“Santi’s out. So, by yourself?”
“Yes. Wanted to explore a little while I had the chance.” I stop fiddling with my shoe and stand up, face to face with Charlie. “What are you up to? I thought you were going to be out all day.”
“Plans changed. Alonzo and I were just having a little chat.”
“Moretti is here too?”
His brows raise. “Glad you’re back. We need to talk.”
“Let’s do it.”
“In the kitchen. Keep it quiet.”
I wonder what this is about. Moretti is here and Sophia isn’t. They need to talk to me about something and I get the feeling it may be about the other member of our little foursome. As we enter the kitchen, Moretti’s face is solemn, his head in his hands, and he barely looks up as I approach the island.
“What’s up, Moretti?”
“Hey Nic, what have you been up to?”
“Wandering.” The same answer I gave Sophia this morning.
“See anything good?”
Just as I start to answer, Charlie pipes up. “You two can chat about that later. Right now, we have more important things to discuss.”
I look between both men. Sensing the tension between Moretti and Charlie, I pull out a barstool and take a seat. “What’s going on? Is this about Rubio?”
Charlie shrugs. “Alonzo, why don’t you start?”
Whatever Moretti is about to say isn’t going to be good. His eyes are lowered and he won’t even look up as his mouth begins to move. “Sophia may be double-crossing us. I intercepted an email message string between her and Paolo.”
“What? You’re kidding, right?”
“No sir.” He finally looks up. “I wish I was.”
“What did the messages say?”
“It’s not so much what they said, but the fact that they are talking at all.”
“She’s part of this mission. Maybe that’s her angle? Do you know what she’s working on?”
“She hasn’t said, other than what she has told us during the meetings and none of that has included having direct contact with Rubio. Has she said anything to you?”
Both men stare at me, I take that back, glare at me. I don’t know what they think I’m hiding but I definitely am not keeping anything like that from them. And if I was, there is a reason for it. “I don’t know anything more than you two. We don’t talk about the case when we get together.”
